


Broken Peices

by Kyzaiah



Series: The Untold Story of Xander Harris [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon Compliant, Childhood Trauma, During Canon, Dysfunctional Family, Episode: s01e01 Welcome to the Hellmouth, Episode: s01e02 The Harvest, Family Issues, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Novelette, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-08-11 15:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20155927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyzaiah/pseuds/Kyzaiah
Summary: “Do me a favor and grab me another beer from the fridge.”Those words were the first thing Xander heard walking into his house... “Hi Dad.”Xander's perception of the start of BtVS. This story covers the impactful events of the first few episodes and his home life during.





	1. This is My Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely W1770W. Thanks a bunch for all your patience with me.
> 
> This chapter takes place a few months before S1E1: Welcome to the Hellmouth at the end of the previous semester and during summer vacation.
> 
> EDIT: Just changed the way the series is organized. No changes were made to the story.

“Do me a favor and grab me another beer from the fridge.” 

Those words from his father were the first thing Xander heard when he walked into the house that night. He had been out for a long study, but mostly hangout, session with Willow and Jesse.

“Hi Dad.” 

It wasn’t much more than a mumble caught up in the sigh that passed his lips. Despite spending the entire day with friends after classes his father made no further comment to the late arrival. Likewise there wasn’t any surprise in Xander at the lack of greeting. His book bag dropped with a thud against the hard floor of the entryway while he started pulling off his shoes. Unlike one of his best friends, who would never do something so improper, he kept his sneakers tied just tight enough they would stay on but just loose enough he could slip them off without untying them. Any extra time he had to spend right here wasn’t worth it. In fact he had walked her home from Jesse’s just to put this off.

Before Xander could make it past his father’s recliner into the kitchen the man was holding his empty pint glass out expectantly. He had picked it up from his side table it over the top of the rim with his five fingers and had the bottom tipped slightly towards his son. He didn’t take his gaze from the TV as the teenager took the proffered glass and passed beside the recliner. It was only a few more steps before he was out of the living room. His mother’s figure met him when he stepped into the room that was always his first destination coming home. 

She was pouring herself a glass at the counter from a half full bottle. He had taken to calling the standard 25oz bottle “single serving” since the pair seemed to think recorking a bottle of wine was sacrilege. Only thing they would deem to call worse would be throwing it out unfinished. He responded to his mother’s pleasantries while preparing his father’s drink. Not the least of those responses, was halfheartedly waving off a glass of the red when she offered. 

He was more focused on getting the head just right on his pour. Line up the flow so that it brushes the edge of the glass to prevent too much foam and at just the right time pull it away from the edge letting the stream go straight in. He grimaced a bit at the glass he had straightened from a tilt while pouring. There was a bit too much.

He set both glass and bottle down resigning himself to have to wait a bit before he could drain the last of the amber into its new container. So he turned to his mother and actually started to pay attention to what she said. Tonight had been par for the course, apparently. Nothing monumental had happened either better or worse than normal. Most of what she talked about were coworkers’ antics at the office or frustrations she had with managers today. She had a book and was heading to bed soon enough. He decided to try his luck again after a few minutes and pour the last of the beer into the pint. The white raised up dangerously over the rim but didn’t spill over which had him thankful that he avoided the resulting sticky glass and hand.

“You should have just taken a sip to lower the liquid level. That’s what I would do.” He ignored the comment to take the glass back out into the other room. His mom shrugged off the dismissal before emptying the bottle into her glass, grabbing her book and disappearing in the other direction, up the stairs and down the hall towards bed.

Xander barely registered his father’s mumbled thanks while he checked the empties on the side table. There were multiple cans and a few of the long neck bottles. Same kind as the one he had just poured from. Still there was no sign of anything but beer so that probably meant he would be able to sleep tonight. Xander took the extra bottle he had brought out and set it down on the table before picking up as many of the empty ones he could reasonably take. His father always wanted two, one for now, one for later. By now he knew to just do it without being asked.

He walked back into the kitchen with the knowledge that his father wouldn’t be moving from that chair till morning. He was sure his mother knew it too and that she was content to be alone in the bedroom that was hers in everything but name. That chair was where his father always spent his evenings. Sometimes there were occasions that a family friend was over or that his dad decided he wanted to cook. Usually they overlapped to show just how great of a husband he was. Otherwise this was the routine.

The next morning he woke up to the obnoxious blaring of his alarm. He lay there for a moment staring at the unremarkable ceiling. It would have been nice to sleep more. With effort he flipped his body onto the side and slapped the top of his alarm clock. He hadn’t bothered to close the blinds last night, so his room, in all it’s messy glory, was lit up in the early Californian sunlight. He pulled himself up despite wanting nothing more than to lay in bed all day. For a moment he considered putting some effort into his appearance today. Laziness and apathy ended up winning that battle. He grabed yesterday’s pants from the floor, an undershirt that looked reasonably clean and a button up from on top of the pile of clean clothes he still hadn’t put away. His hair did with a brush through from his free hand while he took care of his dents. As annoying as the routine was his mother had shown him pictures of that cousin of hers who’s teeth rotted out of his head. The teeth that were still in there looked like swiss cheese.That image really sticks with a kid so regardless of the crap he was going through he always made the time to at least brush.

Thankfully his father was already gone for the day by the time Xander was down the stairs. He tuned out the details on the news from the TV that his mom was listening to while he pulled cereal from the cabinet and milk from the fridge. After two bowls of straight sugar and drinking down the sickly sweet milk leftover, he tossed the bowl in the sink and was ready to head out. He stopped by his mom’s bent over figure to say a quick goodbye. He was already slinging his bag over his shoulder and shuffling into his shoes at the door when she looked up from her stretching. A wave without looking back was his only response to her usual request for him not to be late which she shouted at his back.

When finals were finally over he spent every waking moment he could with Willow or Jesse or the both of them but couldn’t manage to wrap up all of his time. Sometimes, despite what he would like, they had their own lives to live. Having a sleepover with Jesse every night would make any sane parents question the sexuality of their kid and there were only so many times his brain could handle the over complicated topics Willow’s family talked about at dinner. So most of the time he was fending for himself instead of going home. It didn’t take much to tell his dad or mom he needed some cash for this or that. They’d hand him a twenty and he would make that last as long as he could before telling him he needed cash to go out with his friends again.

Usually he just ended up walking around town. Sometimes he’d take some of the cash, by a ticket to the theater and see how many movies he could get away marathoning before someone noticed. It wasn’t the worst way he had spent a summer and it sure beat spending his free time at home. Summer was always harder for him than the rest of the year. He wasn’t the biggest fan of school but it gave him something to focus on and somewhere to be everyday that wasn’t home. There were a few times he actually considered taking summer classes but that could go one of two ways and neither was good. The better of the two was that he be labeled a try hard geek like Will. Wouldn’t exactly help on the bullying front but there were worse things. One of which being the other, more likely, outcome.

Chances were that if Xander Harris was taking summer classes it was because he was in danger of flunking out. 

He wasn’t a complete idiot. Yeah he wasn’t crazy bright and he didn’t apply himself but he passed his classes. Last thing he needed was more people telling him how stupid he was. The only real use he had for school was as an excuse. He could get away with avoiding his parents or chores most of the time by saying he had to study or had a paper due soon. Not that he ever actually did those things locked away in his room. Despite the name he never did homework at home. If he did it at all it was at school or hanging out with Willow somewhere, anywhere else. When he was home, his life had nothing to do with school. 

From the moment he set his backpack down that half of his life was packed into a corner of his mind. It took a lot more focus than he would like to admit to stay calm dealing with what he did day to day. So other than from within the context of a flimsy excuse, he wouldn’t let the US education system be a part of that life. Only time the two ever did meet was, like this, in his thoughts, walking around alone at night.

He knew that despite living in small town Sunnydale there were dangers to staying out too late or going anywhere secluded. He remembered the whole “Stranger-Danger” and “Buddy-up” talks that this town felt the need to reteach kids every year through middle school. Adults here were crazy paranoid about some creep snatching their babies up with the promise of candy. No candy for this boy though. Guess even creeps didn’t think him worth the effort. Anyways, the lessons still stuck with him and even if he doubted that he was on the weirdo radar he still kept to the busier and well lit sections of town.

He was nearing the Espresso Pump when he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It made him jump and look more closely. There didn’t seem to be anything there but his breath had already hitched and he could feel his heart pumping away heavily against his chest.

“Dear in the headlights much?”

Great

He turned to find Cordelia surrounded by the posse she always managed to carry around with her like another of her bad accessories. Honestly he didn’t know who they were. He wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t even the same girls each time. He never actually gave them enough of his attention to be able to tell. It would take someone seriously vapid to want to follow this hell queen around. 

“Going to skitter away like a fluffy bunny next?” Slightly curious if he could actually recognize any of the girls now he watched the giggles ripple between the four of them. Nope. Not a one was anybody who stood out in his mind. He looked back to Cordelia, maybe his imagination was particularly active tonight because it looked like there was actually a hint of concern in her expression. “What scary thing made you tuck your tail between your legs this time?” Funny how she showed said concern.

“Nothing, was just trying to figure out a way to avoid your ugly mug.” Good, deflect it back on her and she won’t see that you actually were freaked out for a moment. “Seriously you look ridiculous with that getup you have on.” He gestured at her clothes. She must be heading to the Bronze, or back from maybe, he didn’t know what time it was. “They say dress for the job you want. Did you have an interview as a disco ball tonight?” That probably did the trick.

“Not that you have the brainpower to understand this but..” Yeah that did the trick. “... height of fashion… trip to Spain…” blah blah blah. He couldn’t care less about the posturing she was doing. Instead his eyes were drawn to the blonde that was walking out of the alley he had felt a bad vibe from moments before. She couldn’t have been any older than himself and she didn’t look the slightest bit ruffled. Maybe what he thought he saw had been just a trick of the light. Cordelia certainly seemed ruffled when he turned his eyes back on her. She looked doubly pissed that he hadn’t been listening in rapture of her insults or self absorption. Not really feeling their argument anymore he threw one more scathing remark her way before trying to step past her.

“Seriously Xander! Listen to me!” 

She wasn’t screaming but the outburst drew his attention for a moment. He realized that she was staring at him with a concern she was clearly disgusted by since it was shielded with a layer of loathing he was much more familiar with. That caught the rest of his attention and for a moment he didn’t have anything to say. 

“Have you eaten anything besides _ that _today.”

She was pointing at the foil wrap he had yet to throw out. He was a little short on cash so the one gas station hot dog _was_ all he had since breakfast but there was no way he was telling her that. Belatedly he realized that she had dismissed her posse. It was just the two of them now. The realization didn’t make him any more comfortable. 

“Since when do you care what I eat?” 

Deflection, have to deflect this away from me. He rushed to figure something out but she didn’t give him the time.

“Maybe your guy brain hasn’t noticed but you look like a mess.” Her nose wrinkled up. “More of a mess than usual anyway” 

“Thanks ever for your concern.” His response was dry. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe if she said something in character they could get back to trading barbs and eventually go their separate ways.

That thought actually gave him the ammo he was looking for.

“This play at pretending to give a damn doesn't suit you. You’re much better at offering tasteless quips that I don’t listen to.”

Any gentleness he had imagined up in her expression was gone at that. She was right back into cold bitch mode.

“Fine then. Sorry for thinking about you like another human being for a moment.” She turned her back on him and started to walk away. “I have better places to be.”

That was when Xander noticed that the other girls weren’t gone. They had just stepped away to the side where Cordelia was headed now. It’s possible he had been a little more rude than necessary. Still, it was Cordelia. Was there such a thing as too rude to her? On that thought, now was probably a good time to head for bed. If he was lucky his dad would be passed out from a bender.

His guess wasn’t too far off from the truth. His dad was crashed in the Archie Bunker chair by the time he walked in the door. He looked like a mess in long johns and a shirt he had worked multiple holes into. The blanket that probably covered him when he fell asleep instead lay over him at an awkward angle, which left most of him there for Xander to see. The TV was still on, some late night Seinfeld rerun, but the remote was in his dad’s hand and pressed against the black fabric that was masquerading as a t-shirt. So instead he walked in front of the television and clicked the power button on the front. Being the only light in the room, it flicked off and left him to mostly darkness. Still there was some of the streetlight filtering through the windows and the red LED on the cable box which read half past one. The man behind him really could have just been tired and fallen asleep during his show. It was late enough for it anyway. Except that the front door was right off the living room and he was pretty sure his dad slept there on purpose. Could see all the comings and goings and know exactly who was here.

He didn’t talk unless demanding a beer or throwing his weight around but Xander wasn’t so clueless that he didn’t recognize at least this much about his dad. The man liked control. It was a bit relieving to have the place to himself without his father guarding the door for the moment. With the loss of light he had to wait for his eyes to adjust. When they did he didn’t go upstairs immediately. Instead just watched his father sleep. 

The jeans he wore that day were in a pile on the floor. Keys, money clip, receipts, all of it still in the pockets. The man had walked in the door, and pulled down his pants right there. To a lot of people this would be scandalous but Xander didn’t know a time when it wasn’t this way. Who cares that his father was in his underwear just inside their front door? It was a fact of life. Same as the empty cans and bottles on the side table next to the half eaten plate of dinner. Same as being barked at for a drink in lieu of a greeting. Doesn’t matter that the person asking could do it himself.

The conditioned part of him told him he should clean up his father’s mess. A smaller saner voice told him that it wasn’t his responsibility. A third feeling also chimed in, this being the one that shrunk away to hide when actually confronted. The anger that was building without being vented. Years of ignoring it and pushing it down. His whole life. 

‘He loves you he just isn’t good at showing it.’ ... Yeah. 

Last thing he expected in this moment was to hear his father saying something. It was only a mumble, but it _ was _ his voice. He turned to look at his father’s face but there was nothing out of the ordinary. His old man was still sprawled out, eyes closed, remote in hand, lips moving. 

Lips moving. 

More than a mumble then. Maybe he was waking up. Guess now was time to stop thinking and take that plate to the kitchen. 

There was an audible sigh as the boy walked over to the small table. His dad was waking up and probably going to berate him for being out so late. Or maybe just yell at him for turning the TV off. Who knows? He was close now and his hand was about to touch the dish when the mumbles started becoming more understandable.

A couple of swears came through. ‘Bastard’ ‘son of a bitch.’ It wouldn’t be the first time Xander was called those things in this house. Still they were usually only used when seriously ticked off. He tried to convince himself that it was just a vivid dream causing this reaction. It wasn’t easy. The words themselves weren’t terrifying, but said in this voice they were. A small but still present sense of confidence was helping him start to move again.

Until the voice grew louder. And with the volume became clearer. Deliberate. It was one coherent sentence that broke the trance and it wasn’t a pretty one.

“I’ll kill you!”

The adrenaline kicked it before anything else. No time for emotion. This was simply reaction. The plate was forgotten, Xander moved as if he was being chased. His feet carried him up the stairs, round the corner and into his room before he had noticed he was moving. His arms acted on their own to slam the door shut behind him while his thoughts caught up to what had just been said. The house must have shook with the force of his actions but Xander didn’t pay any attention to that.

That tiny sane voice knew what was true. It was trying to tell him that his father was still asleep, he was when he said the words and still was when he left the living room. Only something so small wouldn’t be able to get through to him now. He was on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest and his head pressed into his hands. There was no way he was moving.

Outside the door his mother was making rustling noises as she pulled up out of bed. 

“Xander?” In the hallway now she saw that his door was closed, so he must have just come home. What could make him think to be so loud at this time of night was beyond her though. Teenagers could be so self-centered. 

“Tell that kid to be quiet!” Her husband’s voice was shouting up the stairs. Must have woken him up too. “Some of us actually have to be awake in the morning otherwise I would take the time now and teach him some much needed respect.” He was being a bit harsh but she also was frustrated at being startled so it didn’t seem like that far a stretch. Her mind had just jumped to worry first rather than anger. 

“You hear that Alexander!?” Now the woman was rolling her eyes and let out a soft sigh. He isn’t done yet. “Next time you wake up your mother I’ll beat your ass.”

“Tony!” His name was out her mouth before he had even finished the sentence. At the rate he was going, she was never going to fall back asleep. “It’s over now. We can discuss this with him at a time we shouldn’t all be sleeping.”

“I’m the one that says when it’s over!” He was angry but she heard some muffled noises and took that as evidence that he was actually going to acquiesce. Thankful that it was over before it began she shuffled back to her room and wrapped herself back up in the blankets to fall back into blissful sleep. Unfortunately the universe as it is decided her night wasn’t over yet. Just as she was being lulled by sleep she felt a heat creep through her from the core. 

“Fuck”

The next moment the blankets were off and she lay, spread like a star, staring at the ceiling, waiting with cold skin and warm body for her hot flash to end.

Back in Xander’s room the trembling in his body was starting to die down. He had his back pressed up against the door and heard every word the two on the outside spoke or shouted. Then after their voices had quieted he heard the stomp of each footfall downstairs. His senses were tuned into figuring out exactly what those footsteps meant, exactly where he was and where he was going. Though closed in on himself his muscles were taught and ready to react. His heart was a thundering pressure in his ears but he focused on the sound. When he heard the slam of the fridge door he realized that it _ was _ over, not just words. His breathing was a bit rapid yet and he was starting to notice that his hands were growing damp against his face. Still, he felt like he had some control over his body again.

Now that he was calming down the scene replayed in his mind. He scanned his memory for what went wrong. Anything he could have missed. Then there it was. He found the mistake he made in the memory of the bottles next to his father. One of them wasn’t beer. There had been a liquor bottle that fell under the table. It was on its side. It had been partially covered by one of the legs. That must have been why it didn’t register.

Stupid! So stupid!

It had been whiskey he was pretty sure and it wasn’t cheap stuff either. That would have been in a bigger bottle. Someone must have come by while he was out wandering today. Liquor was never good. Liquor meant that there would be demons. Shouting and violence both before and after he fell asleep. 

Xander slammed a freshly formed fist down against his knee and relished the sting of contact. It hurt like hell but that was most of the point. He should have noticed. Should have been here to stop it. Hide the bottle or at least try something. At the very least he wished that he had known anything. Had there been a warning he wouldn’t have come home tonight. Only he didn’t actually have anywhere else to go tonight. Jesse was off visiting family and Willow was having a girl’s night with Amy for the first time in forever. She had been really excited about it.

His problems weren’t worth stomping on Will’s plans like that. Besides he wasn’t thirteen anymore. Climbing into her window after a fight wasn’t what a soon to be sophomore in high school did. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly feasible anymore with how much he had grown. He was almost an adult. That meant he had to start handling this shit on his own. Which meant he had to be better than he was.


	2. The Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I had some problems with the way I posted this chapter, so I rewrote some of it and pulled the original dream. The scene portrayed in the original dream is available to read as separate work called 'Things My Parents Taught Me'
> 
> Thanks again to my beta W1770W for being patient and wonderful
> 
> This chapter takes place during the events of S1E1: Welcome to the Hellmouth and the very beginning of S1E2: The Harvest. A few lines have been taken from these and are in no way my own.

Xander was dreaming. It wasn’t so much a dream as a memory but he was asleep, so it was a dream to him. It’s all a matter of perspective. Just the same as in his waking life he had to find things to enjoy. Try and keep himself in the eye of the storm, one step off the path and he would be caught up in the hurricane winds. Still in that small oasis he was reminded of his parents love and caring and the good times they shared between the bad.

The memory that shaped his dreams was one of those good moments. An open fire lit in the backyard. They all sat around it’s warmth, toasting marshmallows. His mother had her focus on perfecting it to a golden brown while his father was snacking on the blackened skin of his own. Uncle Rory was teaching him the ropes of s’more making. The four of them were continuing to enjoy themselves after a family cookout. His uncle was explaining what made a stick a good skewer and how to prep one when the quality ones were already taken. When he tried to hand the pocket knife off to Xander his mother scolded her brother in-law for endangering her son. His uncle just gave him a wink with a whispered ‘I’ll show you later.’

For a little while everything felt like it was okay. The screaming matches his parents had most days were a distant memory. It hadn't been too long ago his family was in shambles. Late night drives where his mother piled more and more of hers and Xander's things into the car. The distance they traveled from home had been growing larger each time. 

But that was then and this is now. Now his family was happy. Now it was whole. They hadn't shouted since that night last week at him or each other. All that mattered was the now, his family together and the gooey, chocolaty treat leaking out the sides of his gram crackers.

It shocked him when a noise cut through the quiet scene. Shook him to his core like the raised voice of his father. Disrupted his surface calm. It was a repetitive blaring against his ears. Painfully sharp and_ really _annoying.

Everything he did and it was there. It’s whole purpose was to bother him. How was he supposed to relax with that sound? He was shifting now to try and muffle the repetitive beeping under blankets and pillows It didn’t do him any good. Tossing in his bed, the dream was far away and it’s content forgotten. He was awake but didn’t want to be. He grabbed an extra pillow and held it over his face for some primal scream therapy. Sated he turned over on his side to look at the alarm clock.

Shit.

In the rush out of the bed he hit the snooze button instead of the power. Halfway into his pants the machine started angrily blaring again. To an observer the scene would have been comical. He tripped over himself to turn the thing off which resulted in him sprawled on the floor. His head in his hands and an aching, soon to be bruised hip bone. All while the incessant beeping continued just beyond reach. After going so far as to unplug the clock he moved fast to finish getting ready but was determined not to be so hurried he would stupidly hurt himself again. Throwing on an over-shirt he clamored down the stairs shouting for his mother. 

“Mom where are you?”

He found her in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug. She looked back at him and raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

“Mom I slept in. Can you drop me off at the school?” He shuffled around to try and find something quick for breakfast while waiting for an answer.

It didn’t take long. With a heavy sigh the woman told him what he didn’t want to hear. “Every time I drive you Xander I end up late. I was just about to leave. I can’t bring you to campus and still make it to my own job in time. If you want a ride you’re going to have to give me more warning.”

“If I was up earlier I wouldn’t have needed a ride.” Not finding anything he wanted he ended up grabbing a bagel from the bag on the counter and biting into without preamble. Was better to have this than nothing he guessed.

“No Xander I won't drive you again. Learn some responsibility and go to bed earlier so that you actually wake up in the morning.”

He bit back the comment that the two of them shouting half the night had been what kept him from sleeping. Wouldn’t do any good to bring that up. “I guess I better start running then.”

She glared at him and picked up her keys up from off the kitchen table. “Good luck. Try not to be too late.” Then she was out the door and Xander threw his head back in frustration. He was staring at the ceiling fan when he remembered the skateboard uncle Rory had brought for him last visit. The thing was probably from the dumpster and he had never tried using it before but would probably be way faster than walking.

It didn’t take long to find the thing in the garage. It had been tucked up against the wall just inside the entrance off the house. He grabbed it with one hand and then he was out the front door with his bag thrown over the other shoulder. It took him a couple minutes to get used to but he was going pretty fast without falling every few feet after the adjustment period. It was actually kind of fun. His hair was being blown back with the air rushing around him. The breeze was really nice in the warm sunny morning. 

A block from campus he started passing other students on the streets. When he could see the school there was a crowd of students congregating off side streets and unloading from the buses. Outside the front doors of Sunnydale High his classmates were preparing for another day. Some people were chatting on the grass, others were going straight inside. The skateboard had really helped him make up lost time. Unfortunately, now he had to deal with obstacles. Namely the people making up this crowd he was approaching way too fast. He had been so focused on mastering moving, and fast, that he hadn’t considered what it really took to steer or stop.

Trying not to hit anyone but not really knowing what he could to keep that from happening he mostly was shouting at people in warning and making dramatic leaning gestures in an attempt to make the board turn. Needless to say, there were a few close calls.

Small town Sunnydale as it was, he was immediately drawn by the girl he didn’t know when she crossed in front of him. She walked with a confidence that he envied which was clearly supported by knowing that she was drop dead gorgeous. Her sandy blonde hair was curling gently at the ends around her neck and just touching a powder blue shirt that hugged her frame. Said frame was definitely killer. His eyes were tracing it downward while his mind was wandering somewhere decidedly less PG.

And then suddenly he was on his back staring at the sky. Talk about a girl knocking you off your feet.

Every time that day when his back hurt from the fall he was reminded of the stunning blonde. After he actually met the girl he had the bumbling idiot factor working against him and serious questions about why a teenage girl carried a wood stake in her purse. Even for 'self defense' it was a bit bizarre. Then there was that whole thing about her thinking vampires were real. Though he supposed, after the initial shock, that it might actually improve his chances with her. A well adjusted beauty was way out of his league. A pretty girl with issues? That might just be close enough if he stood on tiptoe.

It was not the best school day as far as his track record went but it wasn’t the worst either. Even counting the dead guy in the girls locker room. Sunnydale sure has its charms. By the end, he had decided that his morning’s attempt at boarding was a clear sign that it wasn’t for him. So instead of riding it home he asked Jesse if he wanted it and the guy was ecstatic. He talked Xander’s ear off about the Triple Crown Contest in Vegas all through ninth period. Apparently he hadn’t been that far away from it while visiting his cousins in August but wasn’t able to get close to the action. 

Xander honestly had no idea that his friend was into any sport at all and found himself wondering what else he may have overlooked while lost in his own world. Next thing he knew someone would be telling him that Willow was in love with him or something equally as crazy. 

Jesse was already making plans for them to watch his VHS of Transworld-Uno and try out some of the tricks by the time class ended. The two of them, having been whispering in the back of the classroom, didn’t have any books to pack up so they were the first two out into the hallway.

“Jesse why don’t we just head over to yours now and check it out? No reason to put it off.”

His friend looked at him with one of his giant goofy smiles but shook his head a moment later. “You know my parents Xan. They love you but they were expecting just me for dinner. Were it up to me I’d have you over in a heartbeat, you know that.” He looked guilty but Xander wasn’t about to blame him for his parents. Even if he was jealous of how much they cherished his best friend.

“I’ll still see you at the Bronze tonight.” Xander must have made a face because Jesse frowned. “Unless you forgot about our plans.”

Head drastically cocked to the side the taller boy was looking at him with unspoken questions hanging in the air. They both knew he hadn’t forgotten. The look between them was too knowing. Yeah the suggestion had just been an excuse to not go home, the other teenager always saw right through him. He wouldn’t say so out loud but they both were aware. Jesse didn’t bug him for details the way Willow would. He could just exist. Happy or sad or angry it didn’t matter between them, they just cared. It was exactly what he needed most of the time. 

In their own way of communicating between the lines Jesse was asking if something happened. He was ready to feed excuses to his parents if Xander really needed him.

“I didn’t forget man.” He slapped the other boy on his shoulder. Which, to Xander’s relief, knocked the concern right off his face. That huge dorky smile only Jesse could pull off was back in an instant. “Spend time with your parents. I’ll be looking forward to hanging out with you and Will later.” 

He had no idea how true that really was until he was running down the back streets of Sunnydale trying to make it to the club a whole two hours after he said he’d show. Today was a day for being late it seemed. He was trying really hard to focus on his breathing which came rough and shallow from the exertion and not at all from what just happened. He couldn’t even remember what had caused it. One minute they were eating dinner and the next thing he knew he was being shouted at for shouting knowing full well that his voice wasn’t the first one that was raised that night.

He didn’t want to think about it but he couldn’t stop. From the moment his mother walked in the door that night things were a mess. Even with his headphones on he could hear the two of them arguing about something inconsequential. So he had turned the music up all the way to drown it out. It still didn’t work. The muffled voices told him more in intonation than in words. Plus there were the tiny pauses between songs and the quieter ones he had to skip over. Of course his avoidance had just led to more problems because his mother had to come upstairs instead of just shouting for him to set the table.

“Can’t you give me some privacy?” He said when she slammed the door open to his room.

“Have privacy on your own time. Pizza should be here soon, come downstairs.”

Despite the earlier shouting. They weren’t arguing while he set the table and poured everyone’s drinks. He counted that as a blessing but the tension was still there. It was always still there. His mother had been talking about work over dinner, same as most nights. She was a lab tech at the hospital. The way she spoke about it made him picture it as some kind of lame drama for TV that sounds cool but nothing interesting ever happens. She had been talking about this one sample where one of the emo-phillis, or whatever the heck the cell was called, looked like a question mark under the microscope.

“Jesus woman, can’t you leave the talk about blood or urine or worse for when I’m not trying to eat?” 

She tried to turn the conversation topic on Xander with a ‘How was school?’ but he really didn’t want to talk about himself. Unfortunately, that led to his dad dominating the conversation and it still managed to be about his schooling. He really wasn’t trying to make it worse by giving his father ammo but it was even harder to say nothing. 

“I’m not an idiot dad, and I'm literally right here.”

“If you aren’t, then how come your grades say otherwise dimwit?”

“Tony that isn’t fair. He passed all his classes.”

“Oh are you saying he’s actually smart because he’s doing just enough to skate by? Do you really think that makes it better Jess?”

“Why can’t you get that Willow girl to tutor you Xander? She was always bright.” She paused in thought for a moment. “She also hasn’t come around in some time. How is she doing? You are still friends with her, aren’t you?”

His father scoffed. “Boy can barely talk at the dinner table. She probably left him because he couldn’t keep a conversation going.”

“Hey! For your information I am still friends with Willow.” And I can talk just fine, just don’t like talking to you.

He didn’t add that bit, but he thought it, _ pointedly. _ As if throwing the barb in his head could make him feel a little better. It didn’t. “I just don’t bring her around much is all.”

“I miss her, such a sweet girl.” She was twirling her glass of wine in one hand but stopped when she thought of something else. “Don’t tell me you are too embarrassed by your parents to bring friends over.” He could tell she was offended by the way she looked at him. So he readied himself to endure another of her patented guilt trips.

“Probably embarrassed by his drunk of a mother.”

“As if you are one to talk Tony.”

“Maybe I _ am _ avoiding bringing people around. Maybe it's because of the two of you! It’s impossible to have a conversation around here without there being an argument.”

That was the wrong thing to say and he knew it. He took the bait. He started a fight and opened the floodgates. He tried desperately not to pay attention to the barrage that answered him. But it was so hard not to internalize the scathing remarks. His father’s words were still echoing in his head as he ran. The ones that reinforced every bad thought Xander had about himself. ‘You’re a failure’ ‘You’re stupid’ ‘I’m ashamed that you’re my son.’

“You can’t even stay calm under constructive criticism.”

“Of course I’m not calm you are insulting me!” he had let himself get angry and it was taking over. “You expected me to just lie down and accept this treatment?”

“If you can’t take this from me, how are you going to take it when someone who doesn’t care about you says it?”

“Ever think that maybe I get upset _ because _ you are supposed to be someone who cares?” He was shaking with rage now. “Isn’t family supposed to be supportive, and helpful, and _ nice _to each other?”

“Family is supposed to prepare you for the hard truths of the world. And the truth is that no one out there gives a shit about you.”

It couldn’t be true. He didn’t have many friends but the ones he did mattered. He mattered to them too. Jesse understood. Wills did too, in her own way. Will could be there when he just needed to calm down but Jesse… Jesse was someone he could actually talk to about what happens at home. He really needed his friend now. The Bronze was great and he had initially been looking forward to it but right now he just wanted to chill with his best friend, play some games and talk. Or maybe just be quiet together, that would be nice too. He would take what he could get though, and right now Willow and Jesse were waiting for him. Just a few blocks away.

When he was only a street from the Bronze he stopped running. He focused on catching his breath, smoothed out his hair and checked that he hadn’t ruffled his clothes up too much. By the time he was actually outside the re-purposed warehouse some people were leaving, but the music was loud enough that he knew the party was still on. That gorgeous blonde Buffy was one of the few he noticed walking out and instinctively he thought he should try and make her stay. 

“Hey you’re leaving already?”

She surprised him by actually remembering his name. Then surprised him again with the news that Willow left already, and with a guy. Whoa Willow, didn’t know you had it in you. He was performing a bit of a happy dance for her but Buffy wasn’t having any of it. Yeah sure stomp on my two seconds of fun. You know what else is fun? Picking on the new kid.

“I hope he isn’t a vampire” Heavy on the sarcasm, he called the remark out at her back when she rudely dismissed him. “because then you might have to slay him.” 

He was creeping up along her side hoping to catch her reaction. He was good at making people angry. Probably the only thing he was good at. A smile was seconds from his face when he saw the desperate look on her face.

“Was there a-a school bulletin...” She was so flustered she could barely get words out and he relished it. “Was it in the newspaper?” She turned to him and he forced his expression not to give away how much he was enjoying himself. “Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know I’m the slayer?”

Wow, she actually believes this crap. She may be hot but it looks like that’s all she has going for her. “I only know that you _ think _ that you are the slayer” This could still be fun. “and the reason that I know tha-”

But she didn’t stop. She kept talking and panicking and it was freaking him out a little bit.

Which ultimately led to him following her through the closest graveyard. This was _ so _ not how this night was supposed to go. She had some idea of where she was going it seemed. He really just wanted to make sure his friend was safe. A part of him was kicking himself for not just ignoring the paranoia that emanated from this girl. He could have turned around, waltzed into the club and been enjoying himself right now. Still if Willow was in trouble he owed it to her to help. Jesse was probably leaving the Bronze right now wondering why Xander stood him up. That thought gnawed at him. He would really need to make it up to the guy.

Except ‘the guy’ was here. On the other side of the crypt from him. Also there were people with really ugly faces, and really sharp teeth, and oh god those are vampires. Buffy was totally unfazed. She was actually holding a conversation with the two. His internal freak out was stopping him from noticing the sarcasm so he really was imagining her as insane now. 

“Buffy, we bail now right?”

She didn’t answer him and a moment later he was watching her kill a guy. Monster. Not a guy. Well a guy but not. Not a human. Which only became clearer when he burst into dust on the stone floor behind her. She shouted at Xander to go. So he did.

He grabbed Jesse by the arm and threw it over his shoulder. His friend was bleeding, a puncture on his neck just pounding the truth of vampires into his head. He was supporting most of the weight with Willow helping from the other side. Together they were practically dragging him. Jesse made a couple woozy comments about going back for Buffy but Xander needed to make sure his best friend was safe. That was the most important thing to him in the craziness that was this situation. Willow said something about going for the police and then there were more monsters in front of him. 

What the hell is wrong with this town and why am I only just now realizing it? 

The fight that ensued wasn’t much of one. He had a slight hope that being the only one of the three who actually had any experience with violence he would be able to hold his own but he was down so fast it was a joke. When he came to he was in Willows arms and had a splitting headache. Willow was concerned about him but business Buffy was asking about Jesse and that was the real kicker.

“I don’t know. That girl grabbed him and took off.” His best friend was missing. Taken by monsters. Taken by that girl who looked strangely familiar. Oh fucking hell. It was that girl who had given him the creeps one night over the summer. The night Cordelia had cornered him. She was a monster. A _ vampire, _ and he let exactly half his friends get taken by her. Both of his friends would be gone now if it weren’t for Buffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vans Triple Crown Contest (TM): The very first of this contest series was held in Las Vegas in 1996 and again in 1997. After they jumped around city to city until Vans discontinued them in 2006  
More info at these sites- https://www.vans.com/history.html  
https://www.wcsk8.com/history-of-wcs
> 
> You can watch the Transworld Uno skate video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WP7tPbt4bQ
> 
> Eosinophil is the name Xander couldn’t remember during the conversation at dinner. It’s a type of white blood cell. When stained the nucleus appears deep purple and sometimes takes on odd shapes. Sorry I didn't find a picture but I have seen some of the funny shapes myself. Including the question mark and an exclamation point. I could have also used Neutrophil but I already had an Eosinophil 'Buffyism' (Yes I know its Xander talking but 'Xanderism' isn't quite as catchy)  
Check here for more info on both - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_blood_cell#Types


	3. Keeping Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after S1E2: The Harvest
> 
> W1770W was again fantastic at helping me. Thanks :)
> 
> I'm really sorry for how long it took to get this chapter posted. the next few shouldn't be so bad.

Xander sat in the despair that pooled around him. It made living difficult. Trying to breath made him feel like water was lapping against his nose and filling his lungs. He wasn’t crying. Real men don't cry. 

Jesse couldn’t be gone. They had plans to get together and watch that skate video he was so animated about. They were going to drive cross country after graduation, see New York together. He was going to be Jesse’s best man when the guy gave up on Cordelia. They were going to have nursing home rooms across the hall from each other and make bets on who could piss off the aides faster. 

They were never going to do any of that. Jesse would never show him that video. Never graduate, get married or grow old. He was gone. Worse yet, Xander had been the one to kill him. His stake had pierced his heart. In that second, the person who meant more to him than anything was dust before his eyes. By his own hands. These hands right before them. He wanted them to be covered in blood. Blood was tangible, something he could wash off. Not that it would ever go away. Nothing was the same. Nothing ever would be the same. The world wouldn't be able to function anymore without Jesse.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

The next day was normal, cheery even. The world was still spinning. The sun was still shining. He still had classes to go to.

He had woken up before his alarm. Checking the clock told him it had been three hours since he last looked. That was the only way he knew he had slept at all. Three hours was probably better than not sleeping. He pulled himself out of bed, grabbed a change of clothes and walked down the hall to the bathroom. He turned on the shower head before taking off his pajamas. His shirt tugged at the lame teenage stubble on his chin as he pulled it up over his head. With the water still running he looked at his face in the mirror over the sink. 

It looked mostly like it did yesterday. When he was scared but still hopeful he would be able to save his friend. The difference was, yesterday's eyes looked alive. Today there was nothing behind them.

He grabbed a towel from the cabinet and finished stripping for the shower. Then he took one hand and checked the temperature of the water. It was too cold, but he didn't care enough to fix it. Instead, he pulled back the curtain and stepped in on the far side. His body shivered where the water splashed against his skin. It felt colder on his legs and arms than his hand. Like ripping off a band-aid he ducked his whole body under the stream at once. His head took on the chilling onslaught which caused a breathless gasp. The stream flowed over his face, pouring over his features. 

He lost himself in the feel of the water rushing over him. The cold felt like an army of pin pricks against his warm skin. He focused on that sensation as it died down into numbness. The heat he had cultivated under blankets in his room was sapped away by the unforgiving water. 

If asked how long he stayed under he would have been as likely to say fifteen seconds as half an hour. All he knew was that he had tuned out until the intrusion of his father reminded him he had to wash himself eventually.

“Coming in.” Was what the gruff voice said, accompanied by the creak of the opening door.

Xander stood silent behind the curtain as his father shuffled through the house’s only bathroom. The sink turned on for a moment which warmed the shower water against his skin for a few seconds. Despite his father’s enjoyment of late night activities the man woke up rather early in the day. Normally, their schedules didn’t overlap in the mornings. 

“You gonna be much longer?” his father asked muffled by the toothbrushing Xander could tell he was doing.

“Um, I still have to wash my hair.”

“Well I need to take a piss. Flush the toilet when you’re done would you?”

“...Okay”

Xander awkwardly listened to the man pee. A cloth curtain and transparent piece of plastic were the only thing that separated them. The clack of porcelain that signaled he was finished was followed by the sound of him washing his hands, spitting, and running water in the sink again before finally leaving. Only when the door was shut to the hallway did he reach for the shampoo and start to shower in ernest.

He made it to campus on time without trouble. He expected to see his classmates in a state of veiled panic. That the news of last night’s narrowly avoided massacre had spread and everyone would be whispering about the existence of vampires. Instead, he overheard Cordelia talk about the event as if some gang had rolled into town for a night.

The only people who admitted what happened were Buffy, Willow and the librarian, Giles. The man who had tried to prepare him to murder the demon that wore the face of Jesse. As if that made it better. All he saw when he closed his eyes were Jesse’s staring back at him, wide in shock, before fading into nothing.

Not one of the three of them mentioned Jesse. Xander didn’t bring him up either but he thought about it. Thought about pulling Willow aside and asking her what to do now. How he went on from here. Now that Jesse was gone Willow was the closest person remaining. There were several times he almost spoke to her but in the end he never did.

Just like the school had chosen to forget about vampires, his friend had chosen to forget about Jesse. Giles and Buffy too, although he hadn’t expected much from them. They were too new in his life. He laughed quietly under his breath while walking home. None of them cared that his best friend died. Just like his parent’s conveniently forgot the fights of yesterday, they swept Jesse under the rug. Took his memory out with the trash. Pretended nothing had happened. As if he never meant anything.

He walked in the door and went straight to the kitchen. His father grunted a greeting but already had a backup can beside him, so he didn’t demand a beer. Xander was just opening up the cabinets when his mother walked into the kitchen behind him.

“Oh, Xander, hi. There isn’t much to eat in there. I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping.” She was grabbing paper and a pen from on top of the refrigerator. “I’m about to make a list of necessities. Why don’t you come with me and keep me company? I’ll let you pick out snacks you want.”

He shrugged. Nothing felt particularly worth doing right now, so why not?

That was how he found himself staring at the chips section in Vons while his mother looked at tonic and seltzer on the opposite side of the aisle.

“Do you think a flavored tonic water would make a good gin and tonic?” she mused at him.

He didn’t respond. He was staring at the Doritos thinking about how Jesse always opted for the spicy kind.

“It would probably work fine with vodka.” She was continuing without his input.

He had moved onto eyeballing a bag of sour cream and cheddar Ruffles. Every type of chip he looked at reminded him of his late friend in some way. This bag was no exception. Maybe popcorn would be better.

“I suppose I could just buy both kinds to see if it’s any good.”

Xander continued ignoring his mother as he walked down to where the bags of popcorn were displayed. There was was plain, and salted, and kettle, and butter, and movie theater butter, and there would never be any more all night movie marathons with Jesse. Suddenly popcorn didn't feel like such a great idea. 

Fed up with himself he grabbed a bag of pretzel rods and met his mother back at the cart as she was loading in her tonic.

“Trying to watch your girlish figure?” 

She was laughing at him but it seemed like she didn’t mean any harm. He responded with something funny on instinct but wasn’t paying attention. For all he knew he could have said ‘Your face’ as a comeback. She chuckled though so it must have been something at least a little bit witty. Jesse and himself could throw barbs at each other for hours without letting up. Comebacks were practically second nature. In that way Buffy kind of reminded him of Jesse. She was quick.

“Jessica!” 

Oh god, grocery store meetings. The cliche of all cliches. Also, they were awful. Why had he come along again? Oh right snacks. He turned the bag over in his hands. Pretzels were gross. Picking up these had been a terrible idea. He switched the bag out for Fritos then his mother’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Xander pay attention.”

“What?” He looked up and his mother was standing there with Mrs. McNally. He almost dropped the Fritos right there. 

“What is this all about Xander? Why does Angela think Jesse slept over last night?” His mother was giving him a no nonsense glare.

“I, uh” 

What could he say? ‘Sorry Mrs. McNally last night I murdered your son in cold blood and the night before that I let him be kidnapped by monsters.’ That would go over about as well as a lead brick.

“But if he wasn’t with you...” 

Jesse’s mother clasped both hands over her mouth in shock. Xander felt his heart drop from his chest. What was left was an empty hole that ached with his own pain and the pain of the woman’s before him. 

“Xander,” She began, her voice full of trepidation. “Have you seen him?” 

‘Yes. I killed him. Just last night actually. Killed him not once but twice. I failed him and let him be turned into a monster. Then I shoved a stake into that monster’s dead heart.’

That wasn’t what he said though. He couldn’t say that. He had to keep this secret for Buffy. “No,” He finally said. “I haven’t seen him since school on Monday."

She looked so scared. Of course she was scared. Her son is missing. She didn’t know that he was really dead but she was sure to be imagining the worst. 

“My poor boy.” tears started to flow from her eyes. “My baby, what could have happened to him?” She was sobbing now under the harsh fluorescent lighting. His mother held her awkwardly, trying to give some semblance of comfort where there could be none. 

She deserves to know.

A voice inside him was practically screaming that she needed to know. She should know what happened to her child. Only he couldn’t tell her. Instead he just stood there. He stood there as his mother tried to soothe the woman breaking down in her arms. He stood there and traced his finger along the Fritos in his hands. His eyes drifted from the scene in front of him down to the yellow and red bag in his hands. 

No. Fritos would be no good either.

The look on her face haunted him through the night and into the next day. He reacted to most everything on instinct while his mind was somewhere far away. In the morning before class he met up with Willow and Buffy. Somehow she was still here. Still talking to them, still acting like a friend. She was more than a friend. She was his savior. He would be dead right now if Willow had died too. He kept up his joking to appease the two of them. It was harder without Jesse to bounce them off of. Way more of his attempts at lightheartedness fell flat than he was used to.

With Buffy came Giles. He would nod at Xander in passing, even seek him out asking after Buffy. That man really hated him and his jokes but it was the only way to keep smiling.

Willow was quieter today he noticed. Maybe it had finally set in for her. Maybe it was something else. He wanted to help her but there was nothing he could do. He knew he was a terrible friend and he wasn’t doing anything to fix it. He just keep trying harder to make her think he was okay.

It was impossible to find time for himself. Any time she could be, Willow was at his side. So like any other rational teenage boy he tried even harder to avoid her. He only managed to shake her when the school day was over. She had promised to help Buffy study or something. So while the two girls headed off to the library he took a deep breath to appreciate being able to drop the act. Then he set off for home. 

That was the plan anyway. His feet took him somewhere else. 

Before he knew it he was outside Jesse’s house. He thought that he had let go of the sight from yesterday. The woman who couldn’t stop crying. The sound was echoing in his ears as if she were still in front of him. How did he end up here? The place looked pristine. Irrigated lawn mowed to perfection. White trim on the windows that matched the fence. Stone steps to the double front doors. Much nicer than his own home. He should go there, go home.

Still his body walked him closer. Closer until he was inches from the door. Close enough to knock. Should he decide to knock. He didn’t. He stood there pointedly not knocking. He was about to turn around and leave when the door opened inward.

“...Xander?” Standing in front of him was the woman again. Jesse’s mother. He couldn’t breath. Why was he here?

“I’m sorry.” He turned around quickly and started to go. She had a tissue in her hand. She had been crying. He had done that.

“Xander wait!” He turned around. She hadn’t moved far from the doorway but she had moved. She had followed after him. “Would you, um, would you like to come inside?” Her eyes were puffy, nose red from blowing it too many times. She was pleading him to stay. There was no way he could say no.

For the next few weeks he left school and walked straight to the McNally’s. He didn’t tell his parents and he didn’t let Willow know. Not to mention Buffy or Giles who had both somehow replaced Jesse in taking up his time. No, he didn’t tell any of them. He would go over without anyone knowing where he was and just sit with Jesse’s mother. 

Sometimes they talked but mostly it was silence between them. Mrs. McNally was usually doing something. Xander helped when he could. They made missing posters once and he helped her hang them up around town. Usually, he helped by doing chores for her while she made phone calls or relaxed the few times he convinced her to sit down.

It would be about two hours after school that her husband came home from work. That’s when Xander would quietly excuse himself and walk home. The first few days he showed up the couple invited him to stay for dinner, he always declined. Jesse’s father would thank him before saying goodbye. After two weeks they stopped offering and Mr. McNally stopped saying thank you. Xander felt better without the pleasantries.

He knew that the missing posters were useless. There was nothing for them to find of Jesse. Not even a body. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to show up every day. He knew nothing he could do would make any of this alright. Not for any of them. Maybe it was guilt.

He didn’t feel any better when he showed up on her doorstep. Nor did he feel better helping the woman around the house. Still every second he spent felt like something he had to do. Something he owed to Jesse for all the ways he had failed him. And with every day that passed he became more of himself. Told better jokes, laughed more earnestly. Smiled for real.

Baring supernatural disturbances he continued to show up every day, right after school. Mrs. McNally expected him and left the door unlocked. A list of things to do on the table just inside the door. Xander did them no questions asked and would leave when he heard Eric McNally’s car in their driveway. It was a routine and it was an easy one to maintain. Continued to be until passing Jesse’s room one day with a pile of laundry.

The door wasn’t completely closed and he could hear quiet crying from inside. He wasn’t sure what to do. Wasn’t sure what it was okay for him to do. He hadn’t heard her cry in weeks. Eventually he decided he couldn't leave her like this. He set the laundry down by the side of the door before knocking lightly and opening it the rest of the way.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeves as Xander walked into the room. He mentally kicked himself for intruding. She smiled up at him and his heart broke just a little bit more. 

“Can I help you Xander?”

“No, uh. I was just about to put your laundry in your room when I walked by and um…”

There was nothing he could say so he just sat down beside her on the bed. Jesse’s room was spotless. She must have been cleaning it every day, waiting for him to return.

“Sorry, I just needed to sit down for a second.” 

He couldn’t understand what she was trying to apologize for so he didn’t reply.

After a few minutes of silence she spoke again. “I just like sitting in here sometimes. Makes me feel closer to him you know?”

This time Xander nodded. He had been avoiding this room because he was afraid of just that. Feeling closer to him. It was already so real every day that he was gone. Being here without him added a whole other level to his grief.

The woman who had been a surrogate mother to him was starting to break down again. He put an arm around her hoping it would let her know it was okay to cry. It didn’t take much before she let go again. He envied her slightly for it. She could at least feel sad. Most of the time all he felt was empty.

“He isn’t coming back is he?” Xander almost let go of her in shock but held on and turned his head so he could see her looking at him. “You know something. Know he isn’t coming back.” 

There was nothing to say. Nothing that wouldn’t be breaking his promises. That voice inside him that had been begging him to tell her had quieted down over the past few weeks. Maybe he could tell her at least this much.

“No,” He let himself say after a moment. With the word all the guilt that he had lessened by being here came shooting back. It choked him. He wished desperately that he could go back to feeling numb “No, he isn’t coming back.”

He expected tears, expected sobs but she didn’t react as he expected. Instead of breaking down, as he had seen her do many times, she stood. He felt cold at the loss of contact between them. The face he saw when he looked up was streaked with tears and blotched red. But that wasn’t all, it was hard. Not sad or empty as he had grown used to. She was determined. An image of Buffy came to mind.

She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “You should take something with you. Something to remember him by.”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that there was no way he could forget.

“Don’t worry about finishing the rest of the laundry. I’ve got it.” Then she left and he was alone. Alone, surrounded by reminders of what he had lost.

When he finally left it was dark outside. It wasn’t smart to be out this late now that he knew what was lurking in the shadows. Still, he had a cross tucked into his book bag for occasions just like this. He pulled it out and held it against his side as he walked home. Nothing eventful happened. 

“Where have you been?” Just as usual his dad was talking to him before fully in the door. He wasn’t given much time to respond before the man dismissed him. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Leftovers are in the fridge.”

Xander wasn’t feeling particularly hungry but grabbed a tupperware container anyway and went upstairs. In his room he dumped the bag’s contents on his bed. Ignoring his homework he shifted through until he found the VHS. The title stared back at him, Transworld Uno.

“Finally get to watch it huh Jesse?” 

This would only be the first of many late nights. 

He was in better spirits walking down the street towards Jesse’s old home after class the next day. Keeping that promise had changed something for him. He still missed his friend but now he had something of his. As his mother had put it, it was something to remember him by.

He didn’t think anything of it when he walked up and didn’t see any lights in the window. What surprised him instead, was that the door was locked. Thinking it must have been a mistake he hopped the fence into the backyard and checked the other door. It too was locked. He went again the next day to find the same thing. No lights and both doors locked. He knew what it meant but refused to let himself believe it. Instead he continued to check every day and continued to be met with the same locked house.

On the fourth day there was a for sale sign on the front yard. They really were gone. No warning. Just gone, nothing but dust, just like he had lost Jesse. They were gone and there was nothing left. Nothing but that one video. He never went back down that street again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who didn't notice I named Eric McNally after Eric Balfour who of course plays Jesse in the only two episodes he was ever in. (Bit of trivia: Joss wanted to put him in the final season as the First messing with Xander's head. Unfortunately Eric was busy.)


	4. A Different Dynamic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really became something amazing after beta'ing. Thank you W1770W for that. This whole story seems to be evolving as I go into something better and better. 
> 
> Timeline puts this chapter somewhere around S1E4: Teacher's Pet but definitely before S1E5: Never Kill a Boy on the First Date. I wont be mentioning Teacher's Pet even though it is a Xander-centric episode because I was just not a fan. Sorry not sorry.

When he opened the front door to his home he was surprised to find that his father’s chair was empty.

It took a moment before he convinced himself to continue with his daily routine. There was something unnerving about not knowing where the man was. He pushed the discomfort to the back of his mind and focused on toeing off his shoes in the entryway. When he was just in socks he found himself again staring at the empty recliner. Without his father in it, it looked worn and old. The fabric of it was a gross faded pink that may have been red at one point, but never in Xander’s memory. The wood handle on the side was broken off from overuse and the metal stuck out awkwardly. He knew that the foot of the chair could go back in but it was perpetually open and resting over a short stool since it was so hard to use the handle. The entire thing was kind of pathetic and he couldn’t understand why his father didn’t buy a new one.

There was only one empty can on the side table but next to it was his father’s wallet and pocket knife. Obviously he was home, but where? 

Instead of wasting time questioning it he walked into the kitchen as always. He was trying to bury his insecurity as he went. His father wasn’t in the kitchen either which was a relief. Feeling a bit more comfortable in his own home he moved towards the fridge. There was a box of leftover pizza so he grabbed two slices. One went straight into his mouth to eat while he set about preparing the other. Cold pizza wasn’t too bad in Xander’s book but also wasn’t as good as reheated. Unfortunately, he was too lazy to wait for the toaster oven so he went straight for the microwave. He didn’t bother with a plate and threw the second slice right in. The air filled with the sound of his actions. First the slam of the microwave door, then the high pitched beeps of the buttons and finally the airy whirl of the appliance as it started to spin his snack around. 

When that was done he turned around and took in the rest of the kitchen and another bite of the icy pizza. There was a large, covered pot on the stove. It would have looked more at home in the mess hall of an army movie than in this kitchen. Slice in hand he peeked under the lid. A strong aroma of basil, onion and oregano met him as he did so. The tomato sauce cooking within smelled like every good memory he had in this house.

“Smell good?” His father surprised him by walking into the room behind him.

“Yeah it does.” He awkward returned the lid and turned around to face his dad. 

The man smiled wide for a moment but lost the expression at the microwave’s signal which told them Xander’s pizza was ready. His eyes flicked from the microwave to the crust in his son’s hand. During the action a slight frown began to form. 

“You’re going to ruin your appetite.” He walked over to the counter and grabbed a bag of bread Xander didn’t notice before. “Here” he started saying as he ripped off a piece and dipped it into the sauce. “If you want to eat something let me know what you think.”

He had set down his drink and held both hands out to him. One holding the chunk of bread dipped in dark red sauce and the other cupped beneath it. Xander took the bread and smiled at his father. It tasted wonderful. There was basil in every bite and no acidic aftertaste. He closed his eyes and savored it.

“Good right?”

“It’s awesome.” He couldn’t remember the last time his father had cooked for them and this was really a treat. He was a good cook and his mother was terrible.

“Promised I’d make your mother dinner tonight.” He reached back and grabbed his pint again from the counter. “It needs to cook down some but I even got out a couple bottles of the good stuff for tonight.

Xander nodded. He was talking about their friend’s wine, homemade stuff and really good. His father went over there every year to help crush the grapes. Sometimes they’d even order an extra crate of johnsons to snack on while crushing the ones for wine. He used to go over with him when he was just a kid. He remembered thinking of it as a holiday. His father picking him up from school in his truck and driving out into the country. Out of the desert and into greener land.

It was funny having an Irish last name and all this old world Italian tradition. That was just how it was though. Grandma Derusso wouldn’t let it die while she had any say and his father was living proof of her success. While Xander contemplated, his father pulled off the lid and turned the heat back on to low under the pot. He loved moments like these. 

“When will mom be home?”

“Same time as always” His dad said offhandedly. “Why don’t you do the dishes and stir the sauce a couple times while you’re in here. Don’t let it bubble. Turn the heat down a notch if that happens.” He looked ready to head back out of the kitchen. “When your mother gets home we can put on the pasta water. Should be soon.” Then he was gone out the doorway. He noted the sound of the TV turn on out there before setting to work.

Dishes clattered together painfully loud as he worked. It gave him a headache but imagined it would result in a worse headache if he didn’t do it. He almost forgot about his pizza in the microwave until it beeped a second time in reminder. As much as his father talked about ruined appetite Xander wasn’t too worried about it. He only had two modes when it came to food and right now the switch was on. He could eat anything. After the second slice was gone he had more of the sauce on the bakery bread. He took several more stops to eat before much of anything was done. He was just finishing up with the dishes when his mother came into the room behind him. 

“Thank you Xander” She said with a smile. “Could I get you to take care of the garbage too?” She asked while setting her bag down at the table.

He groaned internally but started ting up the garbage bag anyway. Behind him his mother started filling a smaller pot with water and put it to boil on the stove. 

“Tony! Dinner is going on the table!”

He passed his father with the trash in one hand on his way out the door. He was still watching TV and had yet to get up. Food actually was on the table by the time he was back in and his hands were washed. He started filling up a glass at the sink when his dad walked in. 

“You aren’t having wine Xander?” He didn’t wait for a response and instead turned his attention to the woman in the room. “Jessica, pull out three glasses.” Then he was pulling a bottle out of the cabinet and working on uncorking the unlabeled green glass.

Anyone who knows anything about wine knows that most of the glass should be air. The fill should only be to the top of the taper which means they only look about half full. This lets the connoisseur aerate the portion to their content and appreciate the legs which give reference to the residual sugar. 

That wasn’t, however, how his family did things. These wine glasses were filled prioritizing volume of consumption. Basically they were poured to the brim.

His father fussed with the placings in an attempt to make everything picturesque. Xander just sat down at his seat with a sigh, water glass still in hand. The half finished beer also made it to the table but it was the wine glass held up a moment later by his dad.

“Salut” He said, Italian so mispronounced, a real Italian probably wouldn’t be able to understand him. The three of them clinked glasses and Xander drank a bit of the wine while his parent’s started talking about their days. It was sweet. Probably the cabernet sauvignon and zinfandel mix from last year. It had to be a young one though, not older than a year. Didn’t really mean much for the alcohol content though, that generally plateaued at 14 to 16% within a few months. Homemade stuff being on the higher end. Takes an added catalyst to go much higher. 'Fortified' his dad would say. 'Can't call it real wine anymore.'

It probably wasn’t a good thing he knew so much about alcohol at his age but he never took the time to dwell on it too much. He was reaching for more of the drink when he realized his mother had asked him something.

“What?”

“Listen to your mother when she talks.”

“Tony I can speak for myself.” she turned her eyes back across the table at her son. “I asked how school was. You have a field trip coming up soon don’t you?”

“Yeah, to the zoo. It’s in a month or so. School was okay I guess.” 

He scooped pasta on his plate and tuned out of the conversation again. Instead he focused on gathering up the biggest pieces of meat and put them on his plate.

“How is it?” His dad was fishing for compliments again before Xander had even swallowed his first bite.

“It’s great.”

“Pairs well with the wine right?”

“Yeah it’s great.”

“Drink up, it’s good for you.” He encouraged.

He drank more of the wine to appease the man and followed it up with some more water. They sat there for a while and Xander reached for seconds, thirds and fourths before he had had enough. During that time both his parents continued to fill his glass as they did their own. They never let it go under half full and kept encouraging him to drink more. The bottle was empty before long but his father pulled out another and quickly replaced it.

Since his glass was never empty he didn’t have a reference for how much he drank. By the time the comfortable haze gathered around his thoughts and softened the feel of his movement, he had forgotten altogether about his glass of water. Partway into the second bottle he realized that his father had gone back to beer. Probably only had the first glass and never refilled it. That meant, however, that his mother and himself had already finished a bottle and a half.

When he finally decided that he had had enough he stood up and started to bring his dishes to the sink. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized just drunk he was. The room wasn’t spinning like people say but he clearly didn’t have the balance he normally did. Not to mention the movement caused his blood to rush around in ways that made his body feel… different, for lack of a better word.

“Aren’t you going to excuse yourself?” He turned back to his mother’s call but found her holding her own dish out expectantly instead of being angry. He took it and continued over to the sink where he set them down. His mother was filling her glass again at the table. 

“Clean this up Xander. I’m going to go put my feet up.” His father left the room without touching his dishes still at his seat.

“Oh Xander could you make up a container for my lunch tomorrow while you’re at it?” His mother asked as she stood. Her words weren’t quite as clean as normal but they weren’t quite slurred yet either. “I’m going to go work on a puzzle in the other room if you’d care to join me.”

When his mother left the room he stopped moving around pretending everything was okay. He put his hands onto the counter and leaned into them , head down. He knew it took about three glasses for him to start feeling the alcohol so he must have had more than that. When his mind didn’t feel quite so heavy he focused on getting what he had to, done. Namely putting the food away. Most of the sauce went into the freezer because there was just too much.

It wasn’t long before he was in his own bed staring at the unremarkable ceiling. He didn't remember walking up the stairs but knew he must have. All he was doing in the moment was paying attention to the way his body felt. The way he felt like he was on a boat, rocking in the ocean even though he wasn’t moving a muscle. 

A shout from downstairs rumbled through the floorboards “I worked all day too you know!”

He could tell they were still shouting but couldn’t quite make out the words until his father notched up the volume again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about Jess.” It was terribly loud but not truly shouting. Not yet. “You’re drunk.” he continued over her. Xander could tell she was saying something but couldn’t make it out. “You’re drunk Jess.” 

“You’re drunk!” 

And that was truly shouting. Loud and angry. Shouting in the way that makes your throat hurt afterwards. Screaming without abandon. He didn’t know what they were fighting about and it didn’t matter. He felt terrible, his whole body weighed down, but somehow incapable of staying still. 

The tone in his father’s voice triggered something inside him. In that split second the man wasn’t his family. He was a threat. He was dangerous. He was going to hurt them. 

But that was all wrong, it had to be wrong. They were his parents, they loved him. Loved each other. His voice sat ready in his throat. He wanted to shout back at them. Feel that burn as he screamed over them. Scream to be heard. Scream at them to stop fighting. 

God, just  _ please _ stop fighting. 

He chose to run instead. In a flash he opened his window and shuffled out onto the roof. Then he reached behind himself and pulled out the phone so that he could put the whole thing beside him. He had to stop his fingers as they started pounding in Jesse’s number. He paused as fresh tears threatened behind his eyes. In a moment he was able to bury the feeling and dialed Willow instead. Her mother was the one to answer the phone and was not happy about the late call. Eventually, he was able to convince her to let the two of them talk.

“Xander?” Willow said when her frustrated mother passed off the phone. He could hear her still in the background.

‘No reasonable boy calls this late on a school night. You tell him off and go to bed.’

“Hey.” He replied, trying to ignore the comments he overheard.

“Is everything okay? You've never called this late before.” Then her tone changed. “It’s Buffy isn’t it? Did something happen? Does she need us?”

“It’s not Buffy, Will.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I just needed to talk.”

“Oh.” For a moment she seemed dejected and then she bounced right back. “You wanted to talk to me?! Of course we can talk!” Then she dropped in volume. “I just have to be quiet. Mom expected me to head to bed soon. But we can totally talk!” The last sentence was said in an exaggerated whisper.

They stayed on the phone for a few hours, eventually Xander had himself back inside the house and laying on his bed again. The temperature had dropped quickly without the sun. The two talked about everything and nothing and he found himself wondering why he hadn't done this before. He was always close with Willow but never 'up all night talking' close. That was what he had Jesse for. His fingers ran over the VHS on his desk with the thought. They kept talking. He didn't really have to say much. He just had to put Willow on a topic and she would babble away. It was a good distraction. He did however manage to open up about himself some.

“I can’t even remember the first time I had alcohol. It’s just always been a part of my life.”

“Xander, that isn’t good.”

He continued, mostly disregarding her concern. “I do remember the first time I had beer.” He still could feel his throat start to retch at the memory. “Don’t hate it as much now as I did then” He paused before starting the story. “Ever eaten raw horseradish?" he didn't wait for a response, just went on. "I have. Really wanted something to wash it out afterwards and my dad was drinking a Budweiser. Handed the can over without a second thought. One sip had me asking for more of the horseradish.”

He could still remember the way his father laughed at his misery. He retold that story pretty often to friends, over dinner, right in front of him. They all laughed at him. Kept it fresh in his memory. 

By the time they finally hung up it had slipped from evening into early morning. Willow had been fading for a while so they eventually gave in. She had protested hard but really needed the sleep. They both knew it. He needed it too of course but he was much more comfortable sleeping through class than his nerdy friend.

Something new clicked between the two of them that night. Some little piece that they had been missing. Xander let down the walls he built between them they talked much more about things that mattered. About home, about school, about vampires and Buffy. Their conversations continued to evolve as they went and before he knew it Willow had become the confidant he lost with Jesse.

She was never going to be a replacement, but she was something new and he recognized it as something good. Eventually he tapped into her girl-pertise to help woo Buffy. She didn’t seem totally comfortable with that but he told himself that it had something to do with the inherent weirdness of a girl guy friendship. Made perfect sense in his head. He marked off all of the hints she gave of her feelings for him as just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xander's father struck me as raised in a traditional Italian household when we met him in S6E16: Hell's Bells. Just something about his mannerisms, not to mention his nickname of Tony. Kind of assumed that would mean his mother had been Italian and father Irish.
> 
> And yeah, I do know a lot about wine. That's why i wrote it into the story here instead of a different type of alcohol. (Believe it or not I don't drink)  
This article gives a pretty good explanation of what I was getting at with pouring red wine. -https://learn.winecoolerdirect.com/types-of-wine-glasses/  
There is also an article on that site called 'A Beginners Guide to Zinfandel' for any one interested. I wasn't really pleased looking for a good article on Cabernet Sauv but if I come across one I'll be sure to update this note.


End file.
